[After the Radomsko reconnaissance mission, Pettimore had some questions and needed to enlist Leks’ help in obtaining answers. The following is the lightly-edited transcript of the chat thread in which we played out that scene, posted with the permission of both players. Unattributed lines are mine.

As a reminder, Leks’ player also runs Erick, and Pettimore’s player also runs Alexei.]

---

Leks is minding his own business somewhere in Ponikla on the night of October 5 when one of the railyard teenagers comes up to him. “Hey, Leks? Alexei says there’s someone on the radio for you.”

Leks: That gets his attention. The idea of having working radio again is a simple pleasure, one he didn’t think would come back after the razing of most of this part of Europe. He trots over at the direction of the teen, and heads to the radio room.

Leks: “This is Forest Brother, over?”

Pettimore: “Copy, Forest Brother. This is Bearkiller, over.”

Leks: Concern seeps through in his voice, “Receiving you. Is all well?”

Pettimore: “Up in the air, Forest Brother. Need to touch base with the Pack Alpha, over.”

(As a GM aside, Pettimore – you don’t know the exact borders of Bracia Wilków territory but you know you’re about 50km straight-line or 60km road-distance from the village where they took you. That’s about 40km south of Ponikla.)

Leks: “THE pack, ya?” pausing for the mental calculations on that distance and how long it might take to traverse it. “I can move in that direction on command. Might be… 24 to 36 hours?”

Pettimore: “24 to 36, copy. We might have unfriendlies with…similar tendencies. One in particular.”

Leks: Pettimore knows Leks. He can almost HEAR the grin over the silent radio. “Copy. Will check in ASAP, Usual intervals, until we get ahold of you. Copy?”

Leks gears up and heads out. As he’s departing the village, Stanislaw falls in beside him. The teenager shrugs. “You’re helping John,” he says.

(He’ll follow along unless Leks directly orders him to stay behind.)

Leks: Leks will grunt his acceptance, knowing that he can likely keep up without a problem. Packing for 3 days, just in case.

The weather is cool, humid, hinting at a return of the rain that plagued September’s harvest, but the low-hanging clouds refuse to open up. The duo makes good time, heading south-southwest and skirting Opoczno. They’re moving parallel to a one-lane gravel road through increasingly rugged terrain, heading into the Bracia Wilkow’s hill country, when Leks gets that not alone feeling. Stanislaw apparently feels it too – he leaves his rifle alone, but he lays an arrow across his bow.

Leks: Leks motions for calm. He’ll angle them off the road’s edge, into the cover of some nearby wooded area, and stop. Weapon slung African style, which he can pull off with a LMG only because of his size. He crosses his arms, takes a drink from his canteen, and rummages around for a snack. “They know we’re here. They can contact us as they wish.”

Stanislaw considers that. “If you’re sure it’s them.” He eases the arrow back into his quiver.

Leks: Leks is, but he’ll still his senses, take in a deep breath, almost wishing he could get scent.

There’s a low whistle from a clump of scrub about forty meters out. A few seconds pass before a figure stands up. It’s a woman – hard to tell age under the greasepaint striping her face, but she’s probably of an age with Leks and Stanislaw (who are only a few years apart). She’s a stocky blonde, hair back in a thick braid, wearing rugged civilian attire under a Soviet fatigue jacket in the pattern that was once exclusive to airborne troops. She raises her rifle – something old and bolt-action – over her head and waves it over her head before moving in.

Leks catches motion out of the corner of his eye and turns to see a second woman, similarly geared, approaching from a little farther out.

As they get closer, it becomes apparent that they’re similar enough in appearance to be related, somehow. Both have heterochromatic eyes. And both appear to be wearing wolf-skin capes or cloaks as a mid-layer under the jackets.

Leks: Leks follows the motion, spreading his legs a bit further apart to hopefully show a relaxed posture. “Thank you for allowing us to contact you. I come on the word of Pettimore, Bearkiller.”

The woman who first drew your attention steps in and extends a hand. “I’m Alicja. We know you, Forest Brother. You’re welcome in our lands Who’s your cub?”

The other woman nods. “Zofia,” she introduces herself. Her voice is a painful rasp, barely intelligible. Looking closer, Leks can see a well-healed scar from a wound that, by all rights, should have torn out her trachea and carotid.

Leks: Leks motions to Stanislaw. “Stanislaw. Friend of Pettimore,” he grins, clapping him on the shoulder, “Good kid.”

Introductions are made. Stanislaw meets their eyes, shakes, gets nods of approval for his grip. They’re clearly reclassifying him as an adult. “We thought Bearkiller went west,” Alicja says. “What’s happened?”

Leks: Leks snaps right back into NCO mode, and relays just the facts about the intel that he received from Pettimore. No coloration, no opinions, but it ought to be readily apparent from his eyes that he shares Pettimore’s suspicians about their Rasputin figure. “In the end, we seek advice. Even aid, if it would serve your cause as well. This is… clearly an usual figure.”

The women exchange looks. “Go with Zofia,” Alicja says. “I’ll call for Filip.”

Zofia slings her rifle and gestures for Leks and Stanislaw to follow her in a general westerly direction. Alicja starts moving off to the southeast.

Leks: Leks nods and falls into stride.

Zofia leads the men over the crest of a hill a few hundred meters away. On the opposite slope is an abandoned farmstead. “Safehouse,” Zofia grates. She’s clearly been following the conversation without difficulty but has limited remaining verbal capability.

As they’re approaching the farmhouse, a high-pitched howl echoes from somewhere in the direction from which they came. Zofia cocks her head, listening intently. A couple of minutes later, Leks can barely make out an answering howl. Zofia taps her wrist and holds up three fingers. Wibbles her hand to and fro. Adds a fourth finger, wibbles again.

Leks: Leks nods, not wish to engage in any conversation that obviously is a source of frustration for Zofia. He motions Stanislaw into the building, entering first himself, cautiously out of habit.

One corner of her mouth quirks up. “Talk. Ears work fine,” she gets out.

Leks: That’ll get a flush out of Leks. “Out of respect for your injury. Of course, ears are undamaged.” Of course, his idea of small talk is to notice her loadout and comment on it.

The farmhouse is not nearly as trashed inside as its exterior suggests. It’s clearly being maintained – and maintained to look unmaintained. The grimy windows let in enough light to reveal a well-repaired roof, a rudimentary kitchen, a small stock of preserved foods, and a couple of ammo cans. Two of the bedrooms are equipped with heavily-mended but clean bedding. The front room has two chairs, a couch – and a small bookshelf with a dozen or so volumes, mostly a set of hardbacks with colorfully-illustrated covers.

Zofia nods. “Thanks. Being polite… doesn’t hurt as much.” She gestures around, encompassing the food, bedding, tiny library. “Get comfortable. Well in back.”

Leks: Leks will send Stanislaw after some water, and clear off a portion of the table. He brought his own food, lays out a small spread on the table. Cleans with the water, wiping some of the roaddust from his face and hands. After checking his weapon, leaning it against something within easy reach, he’ll munch quietly. “Alicja. Sister?”

Stanislaw takes everyone’s canteens and steps out. He comes back a few minutes later.

Zofia pulls a rag from her gear and wipes off the camo paint. “Little sister. By fifteen minutes.” She grins. “From Kielce.” She gestures to the southeast. “We left when war came. Long bad story. Alicja tells it better.” Another grin, a hand-wave at her throat. “Bracia Wilków found us. Kept us safe. Offered us a place. Dad left. Not his scene, needed to find other family. We stayed. Now Siostry Wiklów!”

She moves to the kitchen, starts opening jars, puts Stanislaw to work with a cutting board. Glances over her shoulder. “You’ve seen Poland. What’s Estonia like?”

Leks: Leks nods grimly at the first part of her story, but does give a very real chuckle at the sisterhood comment. “Estonia,” he murmurs wistfully, “Good place. Not to hot in summer, winters not too cold. Much greenery. So many animals everywhere.” He’ll talk briefly of his adventures where he learned to forage in the woods, always at home there. Then, of course, his face falls, “I have not seen it in… more than 2 years? More now.”

“What’s keeping you here?” Alicja asks from the doorway. She sets down her gear and begins washing up. “You told them?” she asks Zofia. The elder sister rolls her eyes, nods, taps her wrist, and elbows Stanislaw out of the way to check the fire in the small cast-iron stove.

In the interest of moving it along, there’s a montage of food and a few hours off your feet, relaxing with people who aren’t trying to kill you. Eventually, there’s a tread on the front steps. Neither of the sisters reacts. The front door opens and Filip steps in.

He clasps Leks’ hand in greeting. “Forest Brother. It’s good to see you, but I hear you have a problem.” He eyes Stanislaw a little more reservedly. “And what do we call you? Bearkiller’s Apprentice?”

Stanislaw channels Pettimore and holds eye contact. “I guess you call me what I earn, once I earn it.”

Filip raises his eyebrows, processing that, then laughs. “Then earn it and we’ll talk again.” He pours a mug of tea, eases himself into a chair, and prepares to hear out Leks.

Filip and the sisters listen intently. “Bearkiller does have a problem. We can’t go west of the river without causing problems, but I can consult. I assume your only radio that’ll reach him is back in your village.”

Leks: Leks nods. “It is how he contacted me in the first place.”

Leks: “I can double time, make return trip in less than a day”

“If you can forced march, let’s go.” He looks at Stanislaw. “Can you keep up?” It’s delivered in a level tone.

“Probably Stanislaw admits, frowning.

“We’ll get him back,” Alicja interjects. Leks is fairly sure Stanislaw doesn’t consider this a bad outcome.

Leks: Leks nods, stands and retrieves his gear, adjusting straps for a forced march (because chafing is a bitch).

Filip finishes his tea and takes a minute to contribute to cleanup. When he’s done, he shoulders his small pack and picks up his rifle. As the two of you step outside, he comments, “This would be easier if you took the wolf.”

Leks: Leks scrunches his face as they move out. “I would lie to say that it is not incredibly tempting. But.. the people. I have a duty to Ponikla. To protect them. It was never their war.”

“I can respect that. When you’re ready, we’ll be here. If you’re never ready, I can live with that, too. You’re still doing good work there.”

Leks: You honor me. There will always be a resistance.”

The trip back is… something of a blur. Afterward, Leks will have difficulty recalling specifics. A few things stand out. Eating on the run, something small and fresh, the taste of blood and organ meat. Taking a detour without knowing why, and only recognizing the smell of an Opoczno militia patrol after he sees them. Drinking from a stream dappled by faint light from the waxing gibbous moon. He’s exhausted by the time he leads Filip past Ponikla’s sentries, sending one of them to wake up Alexei.

---

In Kamiensk, Pettimore awakens from a light sleep as Bell pulls aside the hanging bedsheet that bounds off his temporary quarters in the warehouse. “Sergeant, there’s a radio call for you.”

Pettimore: “Go for Bearkiller.”

In Ponikla, Filip takes the mic from Alexei. “Bearkiller, this is… Alpha. I understand you have a problem, over.”

Pettimore: “Good to hear your voice, Alpha. Could use your input.” Pettimore describes Rasputin in detail, including his apparent ability to track by scent.

Filip gives Leks a long look, then turns to Alexei. “This isn’t for your ears,” he advises the young East German.

He waits for Alexei to leave, then turns back to the radio. “He isn’t one of mine. Is he wearing a skin? Bear, wolf, boar, anything else? It would need to be whole, or mostly so.”

Pettimore: Alexei will look slightly disappointed, but nod and leave. “Please be careful with the equipment…sir.” No sarcasm. Something about Filip seems to command respect.

Pettimore: “No, no skin on him or his boss. I saw him catch our scent though my scope, though. Hell, we don’t stink THAT bad.”

“If he isn’t wearing a skin, he’s not one of us.” The reply is immediate and certain. “Which I know is no help with your problem.” In Ponikla, he glances at Leks, as if including the Estonian in “us.”

After a pause, he continues. “There are things older than us coming back into the world. His… ‘boss,’ this Shotkin. Is there anything uncanny about him?”

Pettimore: (describes the scene with the three teenagers) “They were almost, well, catatonic. Like they weren’t even there. I’ve seen warlords before, Alpha. This was more than that. This was like puppetry.”

There’s a frustrated growl over the radio. “This feels like a face I should know, but the fog is heavy on old memories. What I do know is this: we don’t go west of the river. That’s part of the agreement we have with the Heart of the Forest.” The capitalization is audible. “The Heart keeps to his own lands, too, but he’s said other old powers are coming back in the area you’re traveling. Puppeteers… that fits.”

Pettimore: “Any intel you can share will help, Alpha. We’ll do the rest. Also figured you could use the warning.”

Leks sees Filip close his eyes for a long moment. His brow furrows, and he slowly leans forward and taps his forehead on the radio casing. “Your Shotkin. If he looks human, he is human, but touched by whatever is puppeting him. That could be many things, but their hand on him should follow a pattern. He’ll have boons that help him do whatever it wants him to do. If he’s ruling that city, his boons are a ruler’s. Your Rasputin… his boons are a hunter’s. Or a guard hound’s. Puppeteers don’t give boons lightly. It costs them, pains them. So it’s an investment in shaping a place or a future they want.”

“One thing we do have in common with them.” He looks at Leks again. “Boons are easier if the person receiving them already fits the intent. It’s hard to make a stag into a wolf. So your Rasputin was already a hunter. Your Shotkin was already a warlord. Their Puppeteer makes them more.”

“The Heart doesn’t like them but he has something in common with them, too. They understand human hearts. They don’t understand human hands. We understand but it’s easier for us to live simply. They? They don’t understand technology, cities, governments. They can observe effects and manipulate human experts but these things are alien to them.”

Pettimore: “So there’s…SOMETHING else running the show. Figures. Always the proverbial man behind the curtain.”

Pettimore: Pettimore will also share whatever info they have on Shotkin, his men, setup, armaments, etc.

“Your associate, Shield of Lies? He probably has good instincts in that matter.”

Pettimore: “Yeah, he does.” chuckle

There’s a malevolent chuckle. “If Shotkin comes for us, he’ll have to go through the Heart. The screaming will warn us.”

Pettimore: “Alpha, he tips his arrows with something. Not sure what it is, but it can’t be good.”

“No way for me to tell without smelling it, and maybe not then, but no one coats arrows with anything good.”

Pettimore: “I get the feeling that whatever is pulling his strings won’t stop here. He’s building a power base, that’s for certain. Be careful.”

“You too, Bearkiller. Good hunting.”

Pettimore: “Forest Brother, do me a favor. Warn my …heck, apprentice, I guess, about these guys, okay? He’s filling in for me as far as hunting goes, and…well, you know.”

Leks: Leks nods to Filip. To be passed along. “I protect this village.”

Pettimore: “Glad you’re there, my friend. Thanks, gents. Good luck. Bearkiller out.”

Filip will accept hospitality if offered. He’ll sleep for a shift, then head out in the morning.

Stanislaw shows up the next morning, looking exhausted, pleased, and oddly disinclined to discuss where he’s been.

We’re at another point in the campaign where some extended recon is necessary to plan the team’s next move. The sneakier PCs will head back down to Radomsko to see if they can learn a bit more about Shotkin’s marauders. The rest of the team will stay in Kamiensk to pull maintenance, work on improving local conditions, and provide additional security in case anything untoward happens.

---

For the Kamiensk element, I’ll handle downtime according to the usual rules. My players have given me general agendas, which I’ll resolve offscreen. For the Radomsko recon team, I’ll use the same abstract system I used for the activities before the Battle of Radom, with some tweaks to account for lessons learned:

The marauders have an Alert stat ranging from 0 to 5, representing how aggressively they are hunting suspected infiltrators/saboteurs. 0 is absolute complacency; 5 is full counterinsurgency. They’re currently at a 3 because of their awareness of imminent conflict with the 124th Motor Rifle Division.

Each shift of reconnaissance first involves a Recon check for the team to avoid notice, using the worst stealth-focused Recon in the team (Infiltrator applies; equipment applies at the lowest effective bonus across the team). This is opposed by a Recon roll for the enemy forces. If the PCs have more net successes, Alert stays the same. If the PCs and enemies have equal successes, Alert stays the same but each PC takes 1 Stress from a close call. If the enemies have more net successes, Alert increases by 1 per success and one randomly-selected PC receives one long-range attack as they’re spotted. If Alert reaches 5, the enemy mobilizes to hunt down the recon team and the PCs are forced to withdraw.

The PCs’ stealth also gets a -1 penalty on clear, sunny days; a +1 bonus on rainy days (+2 for exceptionally heavy precipitation); and a +2 bonus at night.

After seeing if the team is detected, I’ll then make a second skill check to determine what the team learns from that shift’s observation. I’ll randomly select a PC who’s participating in the mission, then roll one of their skills that’s appropriate to the narrative (defaulting to Recon if nothing else applies). Each success will give them one of the following effects:

• general information on the contents of a new city hex
• a key detail of the marauder’s strength, equipment, or activities
• the location or a key detail of a major landmark in the city
• useful and relevant salvage

PCs do not recover Stress (upper-case) during a recon operation because of the constant stress (lower-case) of conducting close reconnaissance in enemy territory.

PC capabilities relevant to this op are:

---

October 2

Weather: cloudy

Alert: 3

The recon team spends the day resting up and preparing for their operation. Miko makes a ghillie suit for Ellis. Cat makes one for Ortiz, who will be going along to stay at the forward camp with the UAZ-469 and serve as the team’s getaway driver.

Pettimore and Erick take a couple of the younger, fitter Kamiensk residents and go hunting. They return with a half-dozen game birds and two small deer. The Marine spends the rest of his evening cleaning his gear and helping with weapon maintenance, while the chaplain’s assistant helps out Father Miroslav with evening lessons for the village’s children.

Ellis spends the day documenting his observations so far, going back over the video he shot in Radomsko, and interviewing select residents to see if he can extract any more useful intel.

Octavia, Betsy, and Cowboy set up an impromptu armorer’s workshop and try to deal with the accelerated entropy that affected some people’s equipment. Most of a day’s work takes care of everything that the recon element will be bringing with them. Octavia tags out to check on the baby she delivered yesterday and the kid’s mother, while Betsy and Cowboy continue working on their own equipment. [By the end of this process, they’ll collectively have enough Tech successes to bring everyone’s equipment up to full Reliability.]

---

October 3

Weather: partly cloudy

Alert: 3

The recon team leaves before dawn, taking their time getting into position outside Radomsko. Ellis identified a few good hide sites on his last trip, and the group gives the marauders’ defensive line a wide berth [a full shift for undetected travel; with this group and some good planning, navigation and stealth are easy]. They set up their base camp in an abandoned garage south of the city, pulling the UAZ-469 into one of the bays. Once that’s done, Ortiz keeps watch while the four PCs catch some rest and collect local vegetation for their ghillie suits.

After sunset, Ellis, Pettimore, Cat, and Miko sneak into Radomsko’s outskirts. They’re fresh and most of the marauders are still sitting on a defensive line on the other side of the city, so there’s little chance of detection. In a long probe of the city’s outskirts, they’re able to get a general survey of four hexes:

• Hex 19 is undeveloped. Radomsko was expanding in that direction before the war, but the terrain was in the process of being cleared. Vegetation is now reclaiming the torn-up earth and half-poured foundations. Heavy construction equipment stands abandoned and rusting, and some of it shows signs that tank crews used it for gunnery practice.
• Hex 16 was residential. The homes here are larger than in the city center, spaced more widely and still surrounded by forest that, to Pettimore’s eye, shows signs of deliberate reforestation in the prewar years. This was where Radomsko’s upper crust – Party officials and their business associates – lived. Now it’s mostly uninhabited, save for a couple of farm collectives around a cluster of orchards.
• Hex 12 was, and remains, farmland. Several of the aforementioned collectives are here. The team does observe a marauder patrol moving through the area, but they appear to be checking on harvest progress and aren’t particularly alert for PC-type trouble.
• Hex 7 was the city’s public works complex: water treatment plant, coal-fired power plant, telephone exchange, landfill, and a few other industrial facilities all were located here. All of the utilities are heavily damaged, probably beyond restoration with local resources.

Meanwhile, in Kamiensk, the whole team pitches in for a shift of assisting with the harvest. Once that’s done, Cowboy and Betsy pull maintenance on Industrial Light and Mayhem (the team’s MAN KAT1 8×8 heavy truck), Comms (the BTR-70K), and Thing One (the BMW K75S touring motorcycle). They then turn their attention to the recently-recovered PTS-M, bringing it up to what they consider acceptable condition. Octavia and Erick spend the balance of their time on medical aid and teaching.

[For each day that the team averages one shift per person on agriculture, they will be able to share in Kamiensk’s harvest. Mechanically, this will give them a food share sufficient to feed themselves without consuming any of the rations they brought with them.]

---

October 4

Weather: partly cloudy

Alert: 3

In Kamiensk, the team continues assisting with the harvest. Around that work, Cowboy and Octavia crank up the still and start feeding it the inedible material for fuel production. After a while, Octavia leaves Cowboy to it. One of the village teenagers, Sylwia Bosko, demonstrated some medical aptitude yesterday, and Octavia is determined to train up a midwife for the impending baby boom.

Betsy and Erick grab a work crew from those who can be spared from the fields. It’s past time to build some reinforced fighting positions to cover the key approaches to the village. They start on the south side.

In Radomsko, Ellis wants another look at the city center. He, Pettimore, Miko, and Cat carefully ease in toward the government complex. Their ingress is uncontested. As they near the city center, they observe a large group of marauders breaking up and moving out in different directions. Ellis reasons that Shotkin pulled in his defensive line when the expected punitive attack from the 124th MRD didn’t materialize, and now the mutineers are dispersing back to their territories.

Pettimore catches sight of a UAZ pulling away, heading northeast at a leisurely pace. The scout-sniper takes point, leading the recon team along the edge of the government center and into Hex 14. This area was once Radomsko’s entertainment and cultural district. The team trails the vehicle past the opera house, the shattered remains of the cinema, the hockey arena, and the nightclub district before it pulls into the rear loading dock area of the Regional Museum.

Cat points to a shattered church a couple hundred meters to the north. “Betcha no one’s going in there these days.” Her intuition is correct. The building’s interior condition is only slightly better than its exterior appearance, but as far as the team can tell without Betsy’s practiced eye, it should hold together. More importantly, its south-facing upper sections provide an excellent view of the museum.

After a day’s worth of observation, it’s evident that the Regional Museum is Shotkin’s headquarters and residence. He makes several appearances, receiving and dispatching messengers and checking in with his men. About fifteen marauders seem to be based at the compound. In addition to the UAZ, which is fitted with a heavy machine gun, there’s also a BMP-3 parked in the courtyard. It’s likely that this is the “tank” which was reported in the marauders’ hands – not truly an MBT, but a potentially lethal problem (though one that’s within the team’s capabilities to deal with if they plan their fight well).

A few hours after sunset, Big Rasputin makes an appearance. He eases out onto the museum’s front steps, pauses between the sconces in which torches flicker, and again sniffs the air. Through Thoughts and Prayers‘ scope, Pettimore can see the moment when the man’s fire-lit expression changes from disinterest to curiousity to suspicion. Shotkin’s hatchetman gathers up a fireteam of marauders with a gesture and begins loping north toward the church. “We’re leaving. Now,” Pettimore states. The team exits the building and moves another hundred meters away, into the remains of a collection of upscale shops. From their new location, they can see Big Rasputin and his troops investigating their former hiding spot [-1 Stress to all team members].

---

October 5

Weather: cloudy

Alert: 3

In Kamiensk, the harvest goes on. Octavia and Cowboy continue fuel production. Cowboy takes some time off to forage around the village’s outskirts and comes back with an armful of wild roses, which she sets out to dry in a corner of the warehouse that the team is using as a temporary base. Octavia continues her tutelage of Sylwia.

At Father Miroslav’s request, Erick spends the afternoon putting his social work degree to use. There are several simmering issues in the village, and not all of them are suited to the priest’s temperament or position of authority. As an outsider – and a much younger outsider, at that – Erick is a source of guidance that some people will heed even if they weren’t listening to Father Miroslav.

With construction under way on fighting positions, Betsy digs into the team’s small stock of office supplies. She spends the day surveying and sketching, doing math, and occasionally chuckling in a way that would be disturbing if anyone overheard her. At dinner, she presents Father Miroslav and the village’s elders with a set of plans for defensive improvements that should be within the local workforce’s capabilities.

Cat, Ellis, Miko, and Pettimore know they need to be cautious, but they also have the proverbial scent of their enemy. They back off, looking for other observation points from which to keep tabs on Shotkin. To the southeast of the cultural district, Hex 18 is a nature preserve. Unmaintained since the bombs fell, it’s now a wild tangle – a good environment for hunters like Pettimore and Cat. The team spends some time scouting ambush sites and fallback routes before moving back into the city proper.

Miko finds another hiding spot about 300 meters south of the museum. The team settles in to observe. Having done his job, the young Pole takes a few minutes to poke around in the abandoned townhouses and comes up with a trio of bootleg VHS tapes. According to the crooked labels, he’s found Polish-subtitled copies of Working Girl, Akira, and Die Hard!

Any celebration is short-lived. Shortly before dusk, Cat spots a fireteam of marauders walking toward the museum with a trio of prisoners: two boys and a girl, all about Miko’s age. They’re dressed raggedly for travel, and one of the marauders is carrying three half-empty rucksacks.

“Glad I didn’t push my luck with the traveling trader routine,” Ellis comments.

“Nah,” Pettimore growls. “They ain’t visiting. They tried to run away.”

As the team watches, Shotkin emerges from the museum, Big Rasputin at his shoulder. The warlord has forsaken his usual mixed military and civilian attire for a dark purple caftan with silver embroidery. Rings bedeck his hands and gold chains weigh down his neck. He smiles broadly at the capture team, spreads his hands in benediction, then turns to the prisoners. As his gaze falls upon him, they sink to their knees in unison. Through their scopes and binoculars, the team can see the teenagers are shivering in the evening chill but devoid of expression.

Shotkin leans down to each prisoner in turn, cups their face in his hands, and whispers something to them. He steps back and glances at Big Rasputin, who pulls one of the boys to his feet and marches him into the museum. Shotkin throws a dismissive gesture to his household troops, who haul the other two teenagers away toward the wing of the museum that serves as their barracks. The patrol who brought in the prisoners glances at one another and leaves, probably returning to their territory.

A half hour passes without further activity. The sun sinks below the broken-toothed western skyline and a moist autumn chill sets in. Ellis shivers, then goes still as something just below the level of conscious awareness touches his instincts. He brings his G3 to his shoulder and leans out the window. The flicker of motion on the ground below registers, and he throws himself back. The broadhead arrow that would have taken him in the neck slashes across his left bicep instead before burying itself in the opposite wall [Alert +1, all PCs -1 Stress, Ellis -2 Hits!]. Through the gloaming, the agent can see more shapes dashing forward.

The team grabs their gear and starts moving. Pettimore pauses on the way out of the room to shove a field dressing into Ellis’ hands. “Don’t leave a blood trail for him,” he spits. Ellis hands the scout-sniper his rifle and begins winding the dressing around his arm as he moves toward the exit. Pettimore gives the arrow a thoughtful look and yanks it out of the plaster, dropping it into his own quiver.

The recon team dashes through the darkened streets. They can hear their pursuers’ footfalls, catch occasional glimpses of them moving from cover to cover. With a flash of insight, Ellis realizes the marauders aren’t holding fire because they can’t see him and his teammates – they’re holding fire because they want captures. Worse, he also realizes what he’s not hearing: any form of spoken communication. [Ellis -1 Stress from a 1 on a pushed Command/Tactician roll].

The pursuit seems to let up as the team pushes into a thicket that marks the boundary of the old nature preserve. They keep moving for another fifteen minutes before pausing to tend to Ellis’ wound. Pettimore and Cat spread out to pull security while Miko helps Ellis clean and re-bind the laceration.

Pettimore shifts uneasily. Something’s nagging at him. He begins spiraling out, crouching every few meters to examine his surroundings. He risks a hand-shielded flicker of a red-lensed flashlight “Son of a bitch,” he breathes.

Cat ghosts over and makes a soft interrogative sound.

Pettimore points to the ground along the game trail that was going to be their egress route. In the soft earth is a set of heavy footprints: immense, four-toed, spread wider than a human’s. The tracks are recent, within the hour, heading into the city. With a greater level of detail than moisture on stair treads, Pettimore and Cat can make out the imprints of short, curved claws.

---

At this point, everyone’s taken some Stress and Ellis is hurting. More critically, the marauders are at Alert 4. Another bad stealth roll will see them mobilize to hunt down the recon team. The team confers and decides they’re pushed their luck enough. They’ve gotten a good look at Shotkin’s headquarters, including exterior defenses and the garrison’s patterns of life. It’s time to pull back to Kamiensk, share the take with the rest of their associates, and decide on their next move.

---

TL;DR Intelligence Summary

Shotkin’s HQ is in Hex 14, in the Regional Museum. His “household troops” are Big Rasputin and roughly 15 marauders with a UAZ-469 (mounted heavy machine gun) and a BMP-C. The building appears lightly fortified, with a few vehicle barriers in the street and a sandbagged sniper/machine gun nest in the clock tower on the southeast corner. Both vehicles are parked in the rear of the museum, next to its loading dock. The marauders don’t appear to have sentry posts, but they casually wander around the museum complex.

After dark, candles and oil lamps provide interior illumination, with torches lit on the outside of the building and on the vehicle barriers. Other than weapons and vehicles, there’s no evidence of complex technology in use. Shotkin appears to communicate with his subordinate gangs by way of messenger; there’s also a signal flag halyard atop the the clock tower.

Unlike the bank, there’s no evidence that civilian laborers are employed here. The only non-marauders seen were the three prisoners.

The museum’s immediate surroundings are an overgrown park to the north, abandoned townhouses to the east (the church across the street is a burned-out ruin), a toppled monument to the south, and abandoned shops to the west.

The radio headset emits a hiss of fading static as Erick picks it up, then goes dead with a pop.

Cat gives him an ashen look. “You heard that?” she asks.

“I heard something,” the chaplain’s assistant confirms. “Do you need a break?”

Cat hesitates. She desperately wants out of the air traffic control tower, but she doesn’t want to leave Erick alone on sentry duty. “No. No, I’ll stay.”

Down in the carcass of the Luftwaffe C-160, Miko is busy looting the aircrew’s survival gear. Cowboy squeezes past the bodies to tear apart the console and splice in the dynamo from the hand-cranked emergency radio. It takes some creative engineering, but she’s able to power up the navigation avionics for a few minutes. She and Pettimore confirm the details of the flight plan that Pettimore found: the aircraft launched from a strip near Bremerhaven with an out-and-back flight profile suggestive of an airdrop about twenty kilometers north of Czestochowa, but it never made it to that waypoint.

As Cat is surveying the surrounding scenery, she catches sight of a lone figure in civilian garb moving toward the terminal. Through her binoculars, she recognizes Ellis and, with Erick on overwatch, goes out to make contact with him. Once the CIA operator is united with the team, he gives them a brief summary of what he saw in the city center and suggests they return to Kamiensk to brief Octavia and the NPCs and to have the doc take a look at Cowboy’s leg.

Pettimore collects the pilot and copilot’s dog tags for later faith services, as he can’t take the remains with him.

---

The team limps into Kamiensk around 1300. The day is still crisp and clear but clouds on the horizon are preparing to fulfill Hernandez’s promise of rain. Octavia, still bloody and exhaused from delivering a baby, comes out to meet them. She shoves the fatigue aside when she sees Cowboy’s leg.

The accelerated healing that the team has previously enjoyed is still in effect, but upon examining the wound, Octavia notes a patch of aged skin around the injury site. Lives spots, a mole, general texture – something more than the usual weirdness is happening. A fluid sample reveals a thick black sludge in Cowboy’s blood at the injury site. Octavia doesn’t have the equipment to analyze it in detail, but that color of bodily secretions is never good. Ellis volunteers that he’s O-negative and Octavia sets up a transfusion. Over the course of a few hours, the seepage from the wound site returns to normal.

Cat pulls Ellis aside and confides her radio experience, including her recognition of the speaker as someone she knows was KIA during TF Cobalt’s operation. She suggests that the oddities the team has been experiencing all have to do with time – voices from the past, accelerated healing, accelerated entropy. Ellis wonders aloud if the author of Roadside Picnic was on to something, and seems disappointed when Cat doesn’t get the reference.

Pettimore takes the aviators’ dog tags to Father Miroslav and asks him to perform last rites for the Catholic airman, and requests that the tags be buried in the churchyard. The priest is more than glad to do so, and asks Pettimore and Erick to attend him while he performs the ritual. Afterward, Pettimore asks Father Miroslav to take his confession. He’s not Catholic, but the amount of death he’s seen recently is weighing on him. The Pole eyes him and nods. “You’re not Catholic, but I think God will listen. Let’s take a walk.”

---

Ellis shows the team the video he shot of the meeting at the bank. It takes a while, with too many people clustered around a tiny LCD screen, and with many requests to rewind (and “enhance”). A few threads of observation emerge:

Octavia notes that Comrade is paying very close attention. He’s not growling, but his body language screams “enemy sighted.” The doctor also notes that the body language of the men in the video is very reminiscent of pack predators, and it’s even more pronounced when Shotkin is present. They’re more unified – not being puppeted, but the pack bond seems stronger. Which should not be a thing at all.

Pettimore becomes very interested in the large Rasputin-looking guy. He strains to make out details but he can’t tell if Shotkin’s apparent hatchetman is missing a digit on one of his hands. He also observes that the pairs of men sent out from the bank were messengers or couriers – they were roughly splitting up toward the four points of the compass, traveling with light combat loads and an apparent sense of purpose. He reasons that if the marauders are divided into gangs (or fiefdoms), then each group is likely to have its own headquarters… or fortress.

Betsy assesses the fortification work that the marauders did on the bank. It’s crude but solid, and they started with a robust building. She would not want to try blasting her way in there under fire.

Cowboy notes that the fire truck-turned-gun truck is riding oddly low on its rear suspension. It’s a rescue rig, not the type that would have an onboard water tank, so what’s back there? There’s some speculation that it’s full of gold looted from the bank. Then Ellis glances at Cat. “Ah… Cat, how big was that box that Task Force Cobalt recovered in Lodz?”

---

Cat flashes back. She didn’t handle the object that TF Cobalt paid in blood to extract from Politechnika Łódzka, but she saw it. It was dull steel, about the size and form factor of a large coffin. Heavy-duty handles welded to it, with rubber-footed rails similar to helicopter skids on the underside. A few telemetry and power ports on one side, but no apparent way to open it. Radiation trefoil stickers on all faces, but no other markings.

Only the Air Force technical crew attached to Task Force Cobalt touched the thing. Everyone else was under orders to stay at least five meters away from it unless specifically requested by the techs.

When Cat saw the techs loading the object into their truck, it looked immensely heavy. These guys were all near special operations levels of fitness themselves, not pencil-necked geeks, and six of them were straining to lift the thing. She’d estimate it at around half a ton. Once they got it up, though, they seemed to be more pushing it than carrying it – it moved weirdly.

---

Octavia cocks an ear at this. She pulls Cat aside, asks a few probing questions. She comes up with the thing having mass and inertia, but not being subject to gravity. Which is pure physics bullshit, but that seems to be the world in which she’s trapped now.

The immediate conclusion, however, is that whatever and wherever the box is, it’s not in the back of the fire truck now.

The team wibbles for a bit on what to do. There is clearly some bad weirdness happening in Radomsko, but what do they do about it? Do they go after Shotkin himself, try to break his toys, or write off the days spent here and try to divert around the city rather than tangling with a large marauder force?

At the end, they decide they need more information. Ellis, Pettimore, and Miko head back south for another look at what Shotkin has been putting into motion. What they find is about fifty marauders strung out in defensive positions across the city’s north edge. Ellis realizes that Shotkin must be expecting a probe from the 124th Motor Rifle Division after his guys whacked one of the Soviets’ patrols. This presents an opportunity… and the team does still have Katyushka Alekseev in custody…

---

Captain Sergei Andrejev rolls out of Piotrków Trybunalski with a company of rear-echelon troops turned infantrymen who are no happier than he is about the thunderstorm through which they’re traveling. They have their orders, though, and the marauders who wiped out one of the 124th MRD’s patrols will pay. His review of the ops plan is suddenly interrupted by his lead BTR slamming on its brakes and nearly sliding into a ditch. Looking up, Andrejev sees the BTR nose-to-nose with a UAZ-469 containing two people in piecemeal Polish fatigues. He curses, grabs his radio mic, and orders his men to deploy from their trucks. He stays dry for now – to coordinate, he tells himself – and tells the driver of the trailing HMMWV weapons carrier to swing out in case automatic grenade launcher landscaping is needed.

As his subordinate leaders are acknowledging the orders, an unfamiliar voice comes up on the frequency. Andrejev already expects trouble, so he’s not inclined to trust, but he buys his troops some time to get the other force under their guns. As he watches, a BTR-70K slowly rolls forward, turret ostentatiously traversed to the side. It stops and a man in a GRU major’s uniform hops out, followed by two heavily-armed women.

Andrejev sighs, hooks a finger at his RTO, and moves forward to parley. The major is in surprisingly good spirits, but seems to be waiting for a salute. If this is a trap, Andrejev isn’t falling for it – he learned not to sniper-check the Americans years ago.

The major claims to have intel on marauders around Radomsko. He’s surprisingly well-informed – so much so that Andrejev wonders just who his chain of command has been talking to about the mission he only received last night. Then the major drops his second bombshell: he has a survivor of the missing patrol in custody and he’d like to hand her off to Andrejev.

The captain is feeling distinctly paranoid at this point, but massacring a GRU operations team would look bad on his next officer evaluation. He sends his company medic forward, along with two of his more casual murderers for escort. The medic comes back a few minutes later with the missing Private Alekseev strapped to a litter, which confirms at least some of the major’s story.

The major takes the opportunity to expand on his earlier suggestion of intel. The marauders in Radomsko are more numerous than Andrejev’s intel briefing suggested, and they’re alerted to his expedition. Andrejev is rolling toward an ambush.

Andrejev considers. If this is a marauder ruse, it’s a damned complicated one, and the major does seem to know his stuff. The captain excuses himself, returns to his truck, and calls in the encounter. There’s a few minutes of silence, no doubt while HQ digests his report. Finally, his colonel comes back on the channel. The major and his team are to receive all available aid. As Andrejev’s mission is compromised, he’s to return to the garrison rather than sitting out in the rain burning fuel.

Andrejev squelches back to the major and extends the 124th’s hospitality. The major smiles broadly but declines; he and his team will be operating south of Piotrków Trybunalski for a few more weeks, and they need to get back to their mission now that they’ve delivered their warning and their rescuee. However, could he get contact frequencies for the 124th – just in case he has anything more to pass along?

As Andrejev watches the UAZ and the APC turn around and roll south, he replays the encounter in his mind. The major was the only Soviet uniform he saw, and none of the Poles appeared to speak any Russian. Weird, that – he’s never known the GRU to use that much local talent before. Maybe the major is going native…

[Ellis’ player had to miss a couple of sessions, so our “why the PC is not here” hand-wave was that he was off doing intel things. Before the next session, I did a quick Discord resolution of what he learned. The following is a lightly-edited transcript of that, posted with the player’s permission. My narration is in italics; his is in normal text.]

---

In the interrogation chat that we had with Miko, one of the suggested paths forward was to infilitrate Radomsko and, considering its proximity as well as the mystery surrounding Shotkin, I think there’s a lot of value in teasing on that thread a little. I’m curious if the brainfog is being reinforced there by design or if it’s a side-effect of everyone having to work so hard just to stay alive… especially since there’s apparently a man from Quranic myth bouncing around that seems connected to Shotkin (at least, that’s the impression I got since the people who hit the person we interrogated knew both names)

Sound good. Does going in solo in civilian attire still seem like the approach you want to take?

Probably – wouldn’t mind working a cover like I did previously – trader, occasionally links up with Miko to “resupply” and pass intel. Was thinking of including some of the printed material in my trader stuff to gauge reaction/interest but I’d want to get consensus on that before doing it since printed material isn’t exactly as ubiquitous as the BeforeTimes™

So with Ellis rejoining the PCs in today’s session, he’s only been in Radomsko for three days (September 28-30). What level of risk, or what sort of revelation, would make him break off an infiltration that quickly?

Or, to ask it another way, what would either exceed his risk tolerance or be so critical he’d have to risk burning his cover to get word back to the rest of the team?

It’d have to be something that felt urgent… something incredibly threatening and imminent (though preferably not), something so fantastic that it can’t wait, something important but time critical “This will only be good for the next x days” or something. Basically anything that’s really big or really time sensitive. That’s the answer to the first question.

Something that might exceed his risk appetite… A familiar face that isn’t friendly that could compromise him (and feeling like he couldn’t adequately disguise himself), undue suspicion (like immediately coming under scrutiny even if he did everything correct and hadn’t even started working angles, prescient dreams of impending doom might do it at this point as well.

Okay. Pick any three hexes on the Radomsko city map that the team hasn’t explored yet. I’ll give you details on those to represent general recon, as well as your big reason to come back. Does that work?

10, 11, 15

We’ll say Ellis came in from the south, through Hex 12, which is largely agricultural. He didn’t see anything of particular note there, so he started his investigations 11, which is the south side of the old city center. It was predominantly commercial (shops and businesses), interspersed with older middle-class homes. This is probably where the majority of the city’s remaining population lives – call it ~700 residents. They’ve adapted to the loss of utilities, though there’s nothing at all in the way of replacements.

It is immediately obvious that this community is, at best, insular. Residents are clustered together in neighborhoods that they’ve fixed up to be habitable, with backyard gardens and chicken/rabbit pens and the occasional goat or cow. Those enclaves are separated by buffers of at least a block which appear to be untenanted and used only as sources for salvaged building materials.

There’s surprisingly little interest in your “trader” wares. A few children want to see what you have, but their caretakers call them away pretty quickly.

(spoil sports…)

Hex 15 is the city’s old historic core. It’s surprisingly intact – and, just as surprisingly, only has a handful of residents. Many of the buildings here predate modern utilities, so you’d expect it to have been resettled. However, the former shops, townhouses, and offices of minor government agencies do not appear to be in use. Checking some of those offices shows a fairly consistent story: burn barrels in courtyards or back alleys, mass destruction of records.

There’s a fair amount of good gleanings still available in the back rooms of many of the shops, too. You’d expect an area like this to have been heavily Miko’d.

There is no sign that anyone is conducting commerce in any of these shops.

Then there’s Hex 10, the former government center, both for Radomsko’s city government and that of the surrounding county. This is where things get tense. You have to evade a couple of patrols, each 3-4 marauders – when you have a chance to compare notes with Pettimore, these will be wearing the same identifying markings that he noted earlier, with the left sleeve cut off of each of their uniform jackets. They’re equipped with pretty standard Warsaw Pact small arms.

You’re able to track them back to their HQ in a bank building. They’ve fortified it and the two adjoining buildings – vehicle barriers, a couple of sandbagged fighting positions on the roof, sandbag-and-plywood covered walkways between the buildings at ground level. Your best estimate on numbers is about a dozen.

They’ve got a fire engine that they’ve converted into a gun truck. Improvised armor, a gun ring cut and welded in the cab roof, a twin-mount light machine gun up top.

You gather this over the course of a couple of hours, from a good hide on the third floor of a building across the street and halfway down the block. You’ve taken your time, covered your tracks, made sure you’re well back in the room, not in direct sunlight, lots of visual clutter between you and them.

You’re watching them working on the truck when another group rolls up in a UAZ. It’s six dudes, all armed, but no gang markings besides the usual marauder chic. Three of them are obvious security – they’re armored up, the first you’ve seen of this group wearing armor or helmets. AK-74s and secondary weapons. The fourth is similarly geared but also has a bugle slung from his kit, and he’s sitting in the back of the UAZ next to what looks like a handful of signal or semaphore flags.

The fifth is a Rasputin-looking dude, if you blew Rasputin up to Dwayne Johnson size. Wild eyes, wild beard. He leaves his AK in the truck, next to what (thanks to working with Pettimore for a while) you recognize as a bow case and a quiver with a leather cover cinched down over it. He’s sticking close to the sixth guy, and his head is on a swivel – the security detail is watching their sectors but he’s watching everywhere. Including up.

The last guy looks vaguely like Jean Reno. Shaved head, well-trimmed beard, sharp features, intense expression. He’s dressed and armed like the others but body language says everyone is deferring to him.

The dude in charge walks up to the bank in the middle of his security bubble. The gang members there evidently recognize him; their body language is almost animalistic, a dog pack deferring to the alpha wolf who’s come in and taken over. The gang boss comes out and there’s a conversation – looks like the dude in charge is giving orders. There’s some discussion but no pushback.

While all of this is going on, Mega-Rasputin is wandering around. His head is up and you’d swear he’s scenting the air. He’s frowning, suspicious – and he keeps looking in your direction like he just knows something’s wrong but can’t place it.

Hmm… no one ever looks up. Smart guy… and a helluva smeller on him too.

If there’s anything handy to potentially mask my scent, then I’ll get comfortable with that and push it a little longer… otherwise, I’ll back out. I thought we had a camera among us – if so, I’d like to have been able to take it with (or is it that camcorder? I can’t remember… it’s been forever). If I can mask my scent and I do stick around for another few, I’ll try to catch some images to take back with us. Does el Heffe match any descriptions we may have gotten for Shotkin? I can’t remember if anyone’s given us anything other than a name and spooky vibes

Yeah, there’s a video camera in party inventory. It’s usually on board the UAZ (as that’s the expedition’s recon vehicle).

This guy definitely matches the description of Shotkin that you received from the marauders you ran off (in your GRU disguise).

There are some old cleaning chemicals in a janitorial closet that you can use to mask your scent. You do so, and the big guy keeps casting around but doesn’t fixate on you. After another few minutes, Shotkin and his party pile into their UAZ and take off. The gang occupying the bank splits up; they send out four two-man teams on foot, moving off in different directions with purpose.

Whatever I can catch on camera vs just observing with eyeballs I’ll shoot. I want to be able to show the team whatever I find. Do the ones that are heading off to fight… in a direction where I would expect our folks? (player has a fantastically hard time visualizing objects in space over distance)

The five still at the bank appear to be tooling up for a fight. They’re checking their gun truck, loading supplies onto it, checking their gear.

They also run off their “housekeeping” staff – two older women who’ve clearly been cleaning and cooking, and four in their late teens or early twenties who are not dressed for the day’s early autumn chill.

---

(An aside for general HUMINT observations: in the two days leading up to this, you were able to speak to eight or nine people or small groups at length. Universally, they were very terse, clearly uncomfortable with you and hoping you’d go away. They claim to be satisfied with the current state of affairs and safe in Radomsko now that Shotkin and his men are here to protect them. About half of them refer to the marauders in archaic terms – “the masters” or even “the lords.” There’s no hint of rebellion, but a distinct air that these folks are beaten down. They’re generally looking malnourished, though there’s no [to your non-medical eye] sign of disease… yet.)

At least they didn’t say voivod I guess…

With one of them, after having this reaction from them a few times, I’d softly float the idea along the lines “Well, this kind of stability sounds enviable… might put down roots here”

“You’d need to talk to the Masters about that. They protect us from the Outside.” You can almost hear the capitalization. “No offense,” the old guy adds belatedly and insincerely.

“None taken” – best CIA, sell you the world, grin I can manage

(Masters plural… do I get the feeling they see the collective of Shotkin and Co as “The Masters”? I’m suddenly wondering about other variables/heirarchies that maybe aren’t immediately apparent. If that seems to be the case, as in he and his crew are “the Masters”, then so much the better)

They seem to be referring to all of the marauders collectively as “the Masters.”

---

The two-man teams who departed the bank all dispersed in different directions. One of those went vaguely north, in the direction you know the team was planning to operate. The guys remaining at the bank haven’t left yet. Your sense is that they just sent out messengers.

Safe to say they’re waiting for responses?

That’s a reasonable inference, yeah.

Turn off the recorder and wait – no sense draining the batteries. Wish I had a parabolic mic

You’re there about another fifteen minutes. The guys at the bank have finished their preparations and are waiting casually but not sloppily. Again, there’s an alert-predatory vibe to their demeanors. You hear the putter of the UAZ’s engine again, and catch a brief glimpse of it as it crosses a street a couple of blocks away. Shotkin and his detail are still in it – but the big Rasputin-looking dude isn’t.

Is the UAZ headed towards them or I just catch a glimpse of it down the road? If it’s headed back, I’ll capture that. If it isn’t, let it go and keep waiting…. but also, try to set something up where I’m hiding that someone might make noise to give away their approach (like a bucket in front of a door that would make noise, chimes in a door frame, something – ANYTHING so that Rasputin on steroids doesn’t get the drop on me)

It’s not heading back toward the bank.

Okay that’s good. Once I feel like I’ve gotten whatever there is to this bit of excitement, I’ll bail and try to reconnect with the others – being mindful that there’s a buncha armed dudes possibly headed their way

Okay. If you’re in Foundry right now, please give me a Recon check for stealth, taking a +1 for urban terrain.

[1 success, one 1 on a pushed roll]

Awright. Take your one Stress for that. Narratively, we’ll say you had a few prearranged RV points with the team, and will be able to tag in with them early in the session.

Is there anything that distinguishes heirarchy among their org other than Shotkin is the obvious shot caller? Also – I’m very interested in how they move. Most of the mauraders we’ve met before have been fairly undisciplined (even for the prior service types with the exception of some of those folks during the Radom business). You said something earlier about how they seemed to move kinda pack-like. Is that just when they’re around Shotkin or does that kinda bear out in the other groups I see?

the bank gang has a clear leader. No rank tabs or any other visual identifiers, but there’s a dude the others defer to, and he has a lieutenant. Everyone knows who the boss is.

They’re definitely beholden to Shotkin. His dominance is obvious in body language. They’re cowed by him. They’re intimidated by the big guy. At a guess, the big guy is Shotkin’s hatchetman.

These guys are disciplined in the sense of shared purpose, identity, and… territory. Turf. They aren’t saluting or marching, but the sense you get will align with Pettimore’s observation. They’re a gang, this is their turf, and the people who live in that turf are their kine. The more you watch their body language, the greater a sense you get of almost-feral pack dynamics. Their body language with both one another and the women is exaggerated. When Shotkin is around, it’s even more pronounced, and there’s an eerie unity to their movements. Not marionettes, but, again, like a pack of dogs when one lifts its head at a noise and all the others turn to look a moment later.

And when the big dog is around, the wagging of tails is more pronounced. Yeah, creepy… did big scary Rasputin also fit that vibe when he was with them or was he more like a pack of one?

Definitely the latter. He acknowledged the existence of the others but he reacted to Shotkin like.. .call it first-among-equals where only he and Shotkin were equal.

Oh. One other thing you would be close enough to notice, but which the team hasn’t seen yet. All of the marauders are carrying a melee weapon you haven’t seen before. It’s s short whip of braided leather with a trapezoidal chunk of metal at the tip:

F’ing cossacks…

So, in another life, I was a Russian history minor (specifically focused on the Russian revolution and the fall of the tsar and the events that led up to the formation of the Soviet Union) and I actually know what that is 🙂

Beat horses… or, dissidents.

Oh, and more interesting (I finally just broke down and looked it up) – defense against wolves